


"Shape of you", a SW vignette for my OC character Nagina

by AzureAngel2



Series: Tyrian purple, a vignette collection concerning Palpatine´s niece (my OC) [21]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Coruscant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 23:35:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12178677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureAngel2/pseuds/AzureAngel2
Summary: Summary: A warlord of means tries to bring bad news to his commander-in-chief personally. He is bold enough to overstep the boundaries of privacy. His dare makes him face a person he would never have expected at his master's side. Nor in his master's bed either.Time frame: The story takes place about 22 BBY.Planet of choice: Coruscant





	"Shape of you", a SW vignette for my OC character Nagina

**Title: “Shape of you”, a Nagina vignette**

 

_I'm gonna wake up, yes and no_   
_I'm gonna kiss some part of_   
_I'm gonna keep this secret_   
_I'm gonna close my body now_

_I guess, die another day_   
_I guess, die another day_   
_I guess, die another day_   
_I guess, die another day_

_I guess I'll die another day_   
_(Another day)_   
_I guess I'll die another day_   
_(Another day)_   
_I guess I'll die another day_   
_(Another day)_   
_I guess I'll die another day_

_Sigmund Freud_   
_Analyse this_   
_Analyse this_   
_Analyse this_

_I'm gonna break the cycle_   
_I'm gonna shake up the system_   
_I'm gonna destroy my ego_   
_I'm gonna close my body now_

_Uh, uh_

_I think I'll find another way_   
_There's so much more to know_   
_I guess I'll die another day_   
_It's not my time to go_

_For every sin, I'll have to pay_   
_I've come to work, I've come to play_   
_I think I'll find another way_   
_It's not my time to go_

_I'm gonna avoid the cliché_   
_I'm gonna suspend my senses_   
_I'm gonna delay my pleasure_   
_I'm gonna close my body now_

_I guess, die another day_   
_I guess I'll die another day_   
_I guess, die another day_   
_I guess I'll die another day_

_I think I'll find another way_   
_There's so much more to know_   
_I guess I'll die another day_   
_It's not my time to go_

_Uh, uh_

_[Laugh]_

_I guess, die another day_   
_I guess I'll die another day_   
_I guess, die another day_   
_I guess I'll die another day_

_Another day [x6]_

 

 

There are many types of pain. The path that you have stepped on about ten years ago – the way of a Sith apprentice – taught you a myriad of them. Distortions, burns, cuts, major bruises, traumatic dislocations, pulled muscles, bone fractures, internal bleeding. But right now only your pride is hurt.

You never would have thought that a book would bring you down. Especially not a volume on Sith history. When you stumbled over it a page about the seduction of Exar Kun opened up.

The illustration of Freedon Nadd seems to shoot a mocking look at you, his lips curling.

You fight the instinct to kick the book through your master's luxurious bedroom. Jocasta Nu, decades ago your secret lover, would be very shocked that you even consider a deed like this. In the back of your mind you can hear her say in her usually arrogant tone, “Contemporary documents like this need to be handled with great care. They possess an inestimable value for future generations of Jedi.”

You run a hand through your white hair.

The Jedi are not your concern any more. Prior to the Battle of Naboo you left the order and with it the foul politics of the Republic.

Stiffly, you get up again and gather the rest of your remaining dignity around you like a cloak.

At eighty you are not exactly a young man any more. There are times when you feel age gnarling on your bones like a pack of hungry rancors. Darth Sidious, the Sith persona of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, is twenty years your junior. He possesses the litheness of a Tooken.

The unknown woman still gazes at you with the curiosity of a child. Your estimated guess is that she is in her late thirties. She could be anybody. Palpatine's aid, his mistress or even a bastard daughter he tries to hide from the galaxy. You need to find out her true identity.

“Good evening!” you boom, trying to make your operatic bass voice light and gentle.

She does not answer you, just puts her lecture 'Secrets from the Dark Side' away.

A black-and-red pyramid is enthroned on the night stand next to her, producing a familiar crimson glow.

“This can't be!” you get out.

The sight of the Sith holocron makes your blood race through your body. Especially when you realize that the artefact is somewhat broken. A drawer, big enough to hide a book, juts out of its midst. Right now it is empty.

You narrow your eyes.

The occupant of your master's bed is definitely not a Sith. If she is Force-sensitive in any possible way, then her powers are too weak to detect.

You continue scanning her and unblinkingly she gazes back. She hides her discomfort and fear well, you grant her that.

Not even by refined Coruscanti standards she would be considered as large. Normally you like your women skinny just as Vicomtesse Elodore of Valahari. Yet there is an undeniable sweetness about your subject of scrutiny. She is like a fresh apple that you could see yourself to devour bit by bit.

Her face is oval, oblong and square. It faintly reminds you of a diamond. The brunette hair is done with two braids running across her head, and the remainder is put into a simple pony tail. Judged by the hair style, you start to wonder if she originates from Alderaan or perhaps from Palpatine's small pastoral home world.

“My name is Count Dooku of Serenno,” you introduce yourself with a polite bow, your brown coat circumfluent around you.

She does not answer, just keeps starring at you with her eyes wide open in wonderment. It is hard for you to define their true colour. There is brown and green with dots of blue. The iris itself has a ring of dark grey around it.

“I did not know that the Supreme Chancellor would entertain company tonight.”

Your words seem an invitation for her to get up. “And I am very certain that he was not expecting you at this hour and certainly not in this room,” she answers with unexpected poignancy.

Now that she is standing right in front of you, her arms crossed in defence, you take time to let the entire picture sink in.

The woman is about thirty centimetre smaller in height, but weights definitely more than ninety kilogram. The knee length night gown reveals that she must have at least cup seize 40 C. Before you can linger on the promising outlines of her breasts, you notice that the facsimile of Anakin Skywalker is starring back at you.

“Oh, I am a big fan of his since he won the Boonta Eve on Tatooine ten years ago,” she beams and points at her chest. “Sheev and I were there on this very proud day.”

It is not the statement itself that irritates you. She dares to call the master by his true name. Suddenly, you worry how intimate they are with one another. And what she knows about the Clone Wars and the upcoming reign of the Sith.

“How peculiar!” you bite out. “And he really allows you wear a nightgown like this?”

Your bitter tone of voice makes her change her poise. She squares her shoulders like some ringer. It looks ridiculous and cute at the same time. “Sheev actually favours a lot of things.” She takes a deep breath. “ _Dejarik_ , popcorn, classical Mon Calamari ballet performances, dirty jizz gigs, execution commandos, sun sets, holo prank calls, order, cheeseburger…”

You hope the list is not endless. If your master ever finds out that you know so much about him, your life will be forfeit.

“… the slow seduction of others and absolute power.” She takes a deep breath. “What he certainly does not like are strangers in his bedroom.”

“I am no stranger,” you point out, somewhat miffed.

She raises a brow. “You claim to be no stranger to his bedroom? Excuse me for saying so, milord, but I don't think that you are his type.”

“I am his confident.”

She breaches out in giggles. “You know how wrong that sounds, right?”

You take a step closer to her. There are many things you would like to do with this impertinent mouth right now. “We still have not established who you might be.”

Before you can reach out for her skin a piercing voice says, “Mine. This woman here is mine.”

You are known to be fearless, but the words of Palpatine makes your hair stand on end. Between awe and shock, you let go of her.

The reaction of the woman could not have been any more different from yours. She falls on her knees, upright. Dropping her butt towards her heels she stretches the rest of her body down and forward. Her arms come to rest next to her body, the palms turned upwards.

This is not how a devoted servant greets her master. She is simply doing _Vinyasa_ , the Yoga pose of _'The Child'_. You learned it as a youngling in the Jedi temple.

“Veré, my pet!” praises Palpatine without even casting one look at you. “You have been a good girl as far as I can see. And you managed to stay alive in my absence.”

“I read how Exar Kun surrendered to darkness,” comes the demure answer.

Palpatine saunters closer with the liveliness of a much younger man. Instead of a Sith robe he wears the leather outfit of a speed race biker. He carries a helmet with a dark visor under his right arm. “Tell me, which darkness it was that occurred to Exar!” he purrs. “And please look at me when you speak!”

She unfolds herself again, her thighs perpendicular to the floor still. She touches her inner knees together. Sliding her feet apart, slightly wider than her hips, with the tops of the feet flat on the floor. You can see how she angles her big toes slightly in toward each other. The top of each foot is evenly pressed on the floor.

Now she sits in _Virasana_ , the so-called _'Hero’s Pose'_. At least she looks devoted. You would beat the hell of of Asajj Ventress if she ever would dare to kneel so comfortable in front of you. Submissiveness has to hurt and this Veré has not a single submissive bone in her body. Her smile is too smug, her gaze to cheerful.

“Well?” asks Palpatine with almost fatherly patience. “I am still waiting from an answer from my most attentive student.”

Your gut churns.

You are his student. His only student.

“The darkness of his own soul made him fall deeper into the embrace of the dark side of the Force itself.”

He hunkers down in front of her, placing his helmet on the floor. “Last night I gave you a lecture, did I not?”

She nods, suddenly pale. “Yes, you did.”

“In regard of my special instruction, what must you do to better yourself in future?”

There is something soft and tender about Palpatine. Something, you have never witnessed before.

You shudder.

“Be brave!” comes the woman's whispered answer. “I must be brave!”

“And why is that?” His eyes are bright blue in the twilight of the bedroom.

“Because life is not fair and neither is a Sith who wants to teach you something. He will go a great length to scare the poodoo...”

“Veré!” he warns.

“A great length to get the message through,” she corrects herself, wrinkling her nose.

He places a hand in her neck and draws her head closer to place a kiss on her brow. “Don't you forget it!”

Tears stream down her cheeks. “Nothing's forgotten… nothing's ever forgotten,” she sniffs.

“Keep that in mind, Veré!” In cold furry the Supreme Chancellor gets up. “And now out with you!”

The wench does not move.

“Dooku, leave!”

This order takes you aback. “Me?”

An invisible fist takes the air out of you with just one hit straight into your solar plexus. You stumble and fall over the volume of Sith history once more.

“Never enter my bedroom again, imbecile! Nor dare to frighten my poor pet here!”

You stare up into your master's face. “But…!”

“Silence!” he roars. “If I want to hear news from the front lines, then I ask for them personally. Never dare to assume any case of urgency again. All is according to plan. Accept one thing.”

“Master?” you ask.

“Her husband got killed before the Battle of Christophsis was set in motion. Shooting down a Republican troop transporter is one thing, but I do not remember to have given the allowance to fire at passenger ships travelling on the major Corellian Run hyperlane.”

You cannot tear your gaze away from the yellow fire that burns in his eyes.

“The planet of Rodia was not the target nor was the space around it,” he thunders on. “So I keep wondering, what the freck were you doing there?”

He never cursed like this before, nor has he lost is composure like that. The death of his rival seems to be devastating to him. It should be a cause for joy.

“The gunner needed target practice,” you offer as careful as you can.

The smell of ionization fills the air as electrical charges flicker from finger to finger.

“But you don't need target practice, Sheev!” the woman says with urgency in her voice.

Unnoticed by the two of you, she has gotten to her feet again. Now she stands behind Palpatine and places her arms around his waist, hugging him from behind.

His hands drop down, bereft of all life. “You do not seek revenge? But this would be the perfect moment. He is defenceless. You could have my lightsaber.”

Very slowly, but determined she shakes her head. “I am not a Sith lord, Sheev,” she says. “Besides, killing the count will not bring Barin back. He is dead.”

Your brain tries to analyse the situation, but it fails you.

What is going on here?

Palpatine closes his eyes, his fingers cramped. “Tell me what you want and I will give it to you without hesitation! Even Dooku's head on a plate.”

You cannot believe what you hear.

“Let the count die another day and certainly not on my behalf!” she states, her words somewhat muffled.

“You could ask for much more!” he suggests and swirls around to hold her in his arms. “Your own beach on Corellia. The entire Lake Country even. More of that ridiculous Skywalker merchandise to fill an entire museum.”

She laughs, loud and clear. “Just to be here with you is enough for the moment.”

“You will stay on?”

“As long as you need me to.” She salutes like a brave little soldier. “For now I am fully yours to command.”

“Let me get my attorney! I need your statement in written form. For emergency cases.”

“My word should be enough for you,” she teases and ticks his nose in a playful way.

He juts his chin. “Sith lords do have trust issues.”

The two remain like a freeze image, looking at one another.

Time goes by painfully slow and you start to get a cramp in your right leg.

“You may go now, Darth Tyranus.” Not only does she know your secret Sith title. She looks at you with unbelievable sadness in her eyes. “I take it from here!”

“Milady, I...”

Palpatine growls like a rancor that just woke up in a destructive mood, but she lifts a hand. “You are forgiven, not forgotten,” she says. “Please leave!”

Without seeking eye contact with you Darth Sidious says, “Now sits the wind fair,...”

She leans fully into his embrace.“But when the blast of war blows in our ears,..”

Sighing, Palpatine leans his chin on her head. “It was the nightingale, and not the lark, that pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear.”

Your limbs are as heavy as those of a battle droid, but you manage to get away from them.

Who is that woman?

Certainly not Sly Moore, who is whispered to be the dark queen by his side.

Perhaps, she is the wife of one of his Separatist troop commanders? But no, he has blamed you for allowing the attack on a civilian vessel.

If you find out who that husband of hers was, you might get a clue on her identity.

“Don't!” suggests a figure from the shadows.

“Pestage,” you greet the man who steps in front of you.

“The master is smitten by my godchild since I can remember.” The haggard Naboo man rolls his eyes. “Unless somebody is brave enough to take the blame on her death, we will never be free of her.”

“Is that so?” you wonder.

“Don't you find her verbally incontinent and her silliness hard to bare?” he snorts.

“This is why you did not stop me to enter the bedroom?” you point out. “Why the guards did not intervene? You had hoped that something evil would happen to her.”

Sate Pestage laughs hollowly. “A hope that never dies since she took her first breath thirty-eight years ago.”

“And people call me a monster!”

Shaking your head, you walk away from that disgusting man.

You will never forget how this Veré knelt abeyante in front of Palpatine, only trust and love radiating from her. She seems to know everything about him, but still stays by his side. You might never find a partner like this. If you manage to overthrow your master than she could be yours. And you would like to teach her a thing or two about obedience.

**Author's Note:**

> Sources:  
> The song “Die another day” from Madonna (2002)  
> A quote famous quote from the BBC series “Robin of Sherwood” (1984 - 1986)  
> A quote from the Shakespearian play “Henry V” (Act I, Scene 2)  
> A quote from the Shakespearian play “Henry V” (Act III, Scene 1)  
> A quote from the Shakespearian play “Romeo and Juliet” (Act III, Scene 5)  
> The world “abeyante” comes from the fantasy series “Kushiel's Legacy” by Jacqueline Carey (2001 - 2011)  
> Wookieepedia – The Star Wars Wiki  
> Jedipedia, a free German Star Wars-Encyclopaedia


End file.
